


Lawyers, Guns and Money

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Drama, Established Relationship, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-27
Updated: 2007-03-26
Packaged: 2018-09-03 18:15:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8725069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: After an incident with the law, Sam and Dean end up in a medium security prison, with prison problems.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title:** Lawyers, Guns and Money; Part One  
**Pairing:** Sam/Dean  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Summary:** After an incident with the law, Sam and Dean end up in a medium security prison, with prison problems.  
**Warnings:** Incest, gay sex (are those really warnings for the Supernatural fandom)  
**Disclaimer:** Nothing here is mine; not Sam and Dean, not even the idea.  
**Word Count:** 11, 988 [broken into two parts for the length]  
**Author's Note:** I adopted [ this bunny](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_bunnies/38771.html) from [ ](http://toxxxicgurl.livejournal.com/profile)[**toxxxicgurl**](http://toxxxicgurl.livejournal.com/); it’s definitely AU, as they’re not hunters, and even though Sam and Dean are seven years younger than they are on the show, it takes place in the present. So, [ ](http://toxxxicgurl.livejournal.com/profile)[**toxxxicgurl**](http://toxxxicgurl.livejournal.com/), I hope you like it!  
it should also be said that the only knowledge I have of like, prison and the justice system are from Law  & Order, Prison Break and Oz  
  
  
  
Sam ducked his head just a bit, looking around. He reached up to fix something on a shelf, using his other hand to grab the small mp3 player, shoving it in his pocket.  
  
“Can I help you?” a young man asked, suddenly appearing at Sam’s side.  
  
“Uh, yeah, actually,” Sam nodded, discreetly glancing back at Dean, who had been pretending to look at the cell phones. “How many songs can this thing hold?” Sam asked, picking up another mp3 player that looked just like the one he had in his pocket.   
  
The clerk examined the package and Sam waved his hand back at Dean, keeping his eyes on the clerk.  
  
Dean grinned and looked around for any other clerks. The mall was almost closed and practically empty. He frowned and stepped back, changing the channel on the television to music videos.  
  
The clerk glanced back at Dean. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you not to--”  
  
Dean turned the television up all the way, grinning at the clerk. “What?” he asked over the loud music. “Did you say something?”  
  
“Sorry,” the clerk apologized, handing the mp3 player back over to Sam, going over to Dean, snatching the remote away from him. He turned down the television and changed the channel back.  
  
Sam watched them for a couple seconds before he grabbed more things off the shelves, shoving them in his pocket, keeping them up his sleeve. He took a couple steps and waved at the clerk. “Uh, it’s obvious you’re busy, I’m just gonna--” he pointed. “Thanks anyway.” He walked a normal pace until he was a couple stores down from the electronics store and he began walking quicker, not glancing back to see if anybody was following him.  
  
“I told you before, you can’t play with the television,” the clerk chastised. “Now get out of my store.”  
  
Dean rolled his eyes and looked around. “Okay, fine. But I’ll be back.”  
  
“Yeah, right,” the clerk said, giving Dean a light shove. “Out. Now.”  
  
Dean walked out of the store and looked around, trying to find Sam through the crowd, but his idiot brother hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet. He kept walking till he felt somebody grab at his jacket sleeve. He turned, and grinned when he saw Sam standing by a shoe rack. “You okay, Sammy?”  
  
Sam nodded eagerly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”  
  
“Come on, let’s go find somewhere to look at what you got,” Dean said, grabbing onto Sam’s hoodie, leading him away from the shoe store. “Christ, how many mp3 plays do we need, Sammy?” he asked when they were finally alone, sitting on the floor of the handicap stall in the bathroom. “You couldn’t grab anything else?”  
  
“I tried,” Sam muttered, picking up each one, examining it closely. “Look, I managed to grab this.” He offered it out to Dean, who snatched it away.  
  
“You grabbed a cell phone?” Dean asked, grinning. “Nice.”  
  
“It’s a Blackberry,” Sam said proudly. “They’re worth a lot.”  
  
Dean nodded, before shoving some of the goods into his pockets. “Okay, come on. We better get going.”  
  
“Is Dad home yet?” Sam asked, filling his hoodie with the rest of what he stole.  
  
Dean shook his head. “No. Now come on, we gotta get out of here before that guy figures out you just stole half the shit on the side of the room.” He pulled Sam up and patted him on the back. “Okay, I’ll go out, start walking. You wait thirty seconds, follow me. ‘Kay?”  
  
Sam nodded and watched Dean walk out of the stall and he began counting in his head, thirty seconds. He looked around the bathroom, making sure they hadn’t left anything behind before he pushed open the door. He smiled politely at a man who just walked in and went over to the sink, quickly washing his hands. He wiped them dry on his jeans and left the bathroom, turning left to walk down the hall, going out the door that led to the back of the mall. As soon as he stepped outside, he heard a sharp whistle and he looked around, spotting Dean over by a black car, playing with the handle. He walked casually over to Dean, leaning against the car. “Where are we going?” Sam asked.  
  
Dean shrugged, before climbing into the car, reaching over to unlock Sam’s door.  
  
Sam climbed into the car and looked around. “It’s nice.”  
  
Dean snorted, glancing around the small parking lot before he crouched down, playing with the wires. “It’s crap.” He looked over at Sam. “Buckle up, you doof.”  
  
Sam rolled his eyes but did as he was told anyway. “Isn’t this a felon?”  
  
Dean shrugged, even though he knew the answer. “They’re not going to catch us, Sammy. Our prints aren’t in the system, we’re too good for that.” He grinned when the car roared to life and sat up, buckling up himself. “So where you wanna go today, Sammy?” he asked, peeling out of the parking space, coming to a quick stop at the stop sign leading out of the parking lot. “Memphis?”  
  
Sam rolled his eyes. “You want to cross state lines a stolen vehicle? Yeah, ‘cause that’s smart. What would we do there anyway?”  
  
Dean rolled his eyes right back. “I don’t know,” Dean smiled, looking over at Sam as he pulled out onto the road. “I could get you a hooker. I bet Tennessee has some nice hookers.”  
  
Sam blushed and ducked his head. “I don’t need a hooker,” he muttered, glancing shyly over at Dean. It had only been a couple of months since the first wet kisses and sticky hand jobs in the middle of a heat wave and they hadn’t really gotten any further than that and a blow job with Sam on the receiving end, but Sam still liked to think of them as a couple and he didn’t want to go any further with some random woman Dean bought. He brought one his knees up and looked out the window.   
  
Dean rolled his eyes and leaned over, rubbing his hand gently over Sam’s leg. “And I don’t want you to have a hooker. Besides, that’d be more of Nevada territory.  
  
Sam grinned and jerked his leg away from Dean playfully, glancing out the back window. “Can we get a motel room?” He turned to Dean and opened his mouth wide. “Can we go to that place, where Elvis lived?”  
  
“Graceland,” Dean supplied, still surprised that after two years of living an three hours away from Memphis and sixteen years of not living under a rock, Sam still couldn’t remember the name. “And yeah, sure, I guess.”  
  
Sam grinned again and leaned over, trying to press his lips to Dean’s cheek, but his seatbelt was holding him firmly in place.  
  
Dean laughed and moved away from Sam, pressing up against the door. “Get away from me, you weirdo.”  
  
Sam shoved Dean playfully and sat back in his seat. “You’re sure Dad’s not at home?”  
  
Dean nodded. “Yes, I’m sure. He’ll never miss us.”  
  
“Good,” Sam murmured, curling back up, feet up on his seat. “Dean, I hate being short.”  
  
Dean rolled his eyes. “Sammy, you’re in the middle of a growth spurt. Dad’s like six-two or something, you’re not going to be short. Now will you stop complaining about it?”  
  
“Fine,” Sam muttered, curling even further up, leaning against the door. “It’s just, my legs hurt at night. Achy. I don’t like it.”  
  
“Oh, poor baby,” Dean said, mocking Sam with a whine. “Poor little Sammy Winchester. He’s _achy_. Boohoo, Sammy.”  
  
“It hurts!” Sam whined. “It does!”  
  
“Surprisingly, I don’t care,” Dean smiled. “Oh come on, Sammy--”  
  
“Stop calling me, Sammy,” Sam interrupted. “It’s Sam. _Samuel_ on the birth certificate. Nowhere anywhere does it say Sammy. Stop it.”  
  
Dean began laughing to himself, shaking his head. “Are you PMS-ing or something? Did I miss that memo? Maybe Samuel is actually _Samantha_.” He began to laugh again, looking over at Sam.  
  
“Shut up!” Sam cried, reaching over to shove Dean. “Shut up! It’s not funny!”  
  
Dean bit his lip and stopped laughing. Which lasted for all of twenty seconds before he started again. “Maybe we should’ve stolen some tampons too,” he barely managed to get out through his giggles. “Little Samantha is--”  
  
“Shut up!” Sam yelled, voice full of anger. “It’s not funny! Now shut up about it!”  
  
Dean finally stopped laughing, for real this time. The only sound in the car was Sam’s heavy breathing, trying to calm himself down. “Listen, Sam, I’m sor-”  
  
“Shut up,” Sam snapped, turning to glare at Dean. “I don’t care. Shut up.”  
  
Dean smiled and nodded, pressing his foot down on the gas. They were almost out of the town anyway, almost in the middle of the nowhere, considering they practically started out in the middle of nowhere to begin with. Ninety-nine percent of the world had never heard of Panther Burn, Mississippi, and even less had heard of the Winchesters. Dean and Sam could keep on driving, keep on going through Mississippi, Louisiana, through Texas and down to Mexico and only one person would ever miss them. It was that thought that made Dean press down even harder on the gas, finally going over the speed limit. There it was, the sign declaring they were now leaving Panther Burn. “Thank God,” he murmured, glancing back as they left the town.   
  
Sam took a deep breath and slowly moved his feet back onto the floor, clearing his throat as he straightened up, curling away from the door. He was still pissed, sure, and it would probably take more than a couple minutes for him not to be, but he didn’t want Dean to think he hated him or something. He kept his eyes on the road in front of them as he reached over, rubbing Dean’s thigh softly.  
  
Dean looked down in surprise before looking over at Sam. “It’s okay, Sam. I’m sorry.”  
  
Sam nodded and pulled his hand back, setting it on his own lap. “How long does it take to get there again?”  
  
“Just about three hours,” Dean replied, glancing down at radio clock. “We’ll make it there around midnight. That okay?”  
  
Sam nodded silently, before letting out of a soft yawn. “Can I sleep till we get there?”  
  
Dean nodded, smiling weakly. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s okay. You want me to stop, let you in the back?”  
  
Sam shook his head and just leaned his head against the window, letting his eyes drift closed. “I’m okay here,” he murmured, before yawning again. “Right here’s nice,” he mumbled and he could feel himself slipping into sleep. It had been a long day; late for school, classes, detention for being late for school, making supper, figuring out when to rob the electronics store and actually robbing it. Sam wondered what everybody else in his classes were doing right then. He’d bet that Blackberry that none of them were being driven out of town by their brother in a stolen car. He wondered what it was like, to have a normal family, with a mom who was alive and a dad who was around and a brother he didn’t have sex with. _I bet it’s nice_ , Sam thought, smiling in his sleep. He shifted, head knocking against the window and in his dream, Dean had thrown something at his head. Sam groaned low in his throat and turned over, slumping against the seatbelt. “Ow,” Sam said, eyes fluttering open.  
  
Dean laughed, reaching over to help push Sam up. “Bright lights, big city, little brother. You awake?”  
  
Sam nodded, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m sleepy,” he said softly, eyes blinking wildly. “Can we get a room?”  
  
Dean nodded, driving through the streets, trying to get away from the main streets of Memphis, trying to get to the outskirts, with the motels instead of the places he knew he could never afford. Dean soon found the Motel 78, quickly parking. He climbed out of the car and glanced in the back seat. “Shit, Sam, we don’t have anything to sleep in.”  
  
Sam smiled sleepily and climbed out of the car, leaning on the roof. “That’s okay. I don’t mind sleeping in my boxers.”  
  
Dean grinned and gestured Sam over to him, walking with him up to the door. “Or nothing at all.”  
  
Sam blushed and ducked his head, hiding from the woman at the desk.  
  
“A room, please,” Dean said, tapping his fingers on the wood.  
  
“King or two Queens?” the woman asked, looking at her computer.  
  
Dean smirked at Sam, reaching over to pinch his ass. “King, please.”  
  
“Cash or credit?” the woman asked, looking up at him.  
  
“Cash,” Dean answered, digging out his wallet. He grabbed a couple bills and handed them to the woman. “That cover it?”  
  
The woman nodded, handing Dean his room key. “Twenty-two.”  
  
“Thanks,” Dean smiled, reaching over to grasp onto Sam’s hand, pulling him away from the desk.  
  
Sam smiled and nodded, following Dean back outside to room number twenty-two. “It’s so pretty here,” he grinned, pulling on Dean’s hand to get him to look. “I wish we lived here. It’s better than Panther Burn.”  
  
Dean shrugged and quickly unlocked their room, leading Sam in. He kicked off his sneakers and closed the door behind Sam, locking it.  
  
Sam wandered around the small room, looking at the kitsch paintings that seemed to hang in every motel they’d ever been in. “I like it here.”  
  
Dean smiled, watching Sam look at the room, practically in wonder. “Sam, are you okay?”  
  
Sam nodded eagerly and turned around, looking at Dean. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just-- we haven’t had our own motel room since we-- well, since we started--” he blushed again and stopped talking, sitting down on the bed.  
  
“Since we started doing it?” Dean asked, waggling his eyebrows, sticking the tip of his tongue out. “Yeah, it is a pretty big moment.” He walked over to the bed, crouching in front of Sam, hands on Sam’s knees. “You okay?”  
  
Sam nodded again and leaned down, pulling Dean in for a kiss.   
  
As it turned out, Sam had only ever kissed one person before he kissed Dean and Sam still hadn’t gotten the talent portion of it down yet, but Dean still gave him points for enthusiasm. Except sometimes, Sam got a little _too_ enthusiastic.  
  
Dean pulled back and looked away, swallowing hard.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Sam said quickly, looking down at his lap. “I did it again, didn’t I? The thing, with my tongue?”  
  
Dean smiled up at Sam, before finally nodding. “Yeah, you did. It’s okay though, Sam, everybody’s gotta learn somehow.”  
  
Sam leaned down and gave Dean another kiss, this one almost chaste, sweet. With no tongue. “I really am sorry. I’m trying. I am.”  
  
“I know,” Dean said, pushing himself up to push Sam’s hair out of his eyes. “Sam, it’s just a kiss. It’s just a tongue. You’ve only ever kissed two people, I think it’s expected that you’re not going to be great at it.”  
  
“Yeah?” Sam asked, eyes wide and hopeful.  
  
Dean nodded. “Yeah. But don’t worry, I plan on teaching you how.” He gently pushed Sam down on the bed and climbed up on him, straddling his thighs. “I’m a very good teacher,” he said quietly, before leaning down, nipping at Sam’s bottom lip.   
  
Sam pulled back from the kiss, groaning. “Can you-- can you get off me for a sec, this is a really uncomfortable way to be laying on the bed.” He pushed Dean off him and toed off his sneakers, pushing himself further up on the bed, till he was up by the pillows.  
  
“You okay now?” Dean asked, but he was already on his way up the bed, crawling on all fours until he was between Sam’s legs, leaning down to give him another kiss.  
  
Sam moaned into the kiss, cupping the back of Dean’s neck, pulling him in closer. His other hand went up to dig into Dean’s hair, fingertips pressing into Dean’s head.  
  
“I thought--” Dean swallowed and shook his head, starting again. “I thought you wanted to go to Graceland.”  
  
Sam grinned and looked down at his watch. “It’s so late. Tomorrow?” he asked hopefully.  
  
Dean nodded. “Tomorrow.” He gave him a quick kiss. “I promise.”  
  
Sam sighed and laid back, settling into the mattress. “I wish we could stay here, forever.”  
  
Dean shifted on the bed, laying half on Sam, one leg between both of Sam’s. He laid his head down, listening to Sam’s heartbeat. “I’ve thought about it, just running off. Start driving and keep on going.”  
  
“You’d take me with you, right?” Sam asked, looking down at Dean. “Right?”  
  
“Of course, Sammy,” Dean assured him, nuzzling his cheek against Sam’s chest. “Of course. I’ll take you wherever I go.”  
  
Sam smiled to himself, looking back up at the ceiling. “Dean, can I do something for you?”  
  
Dean shrugged, reaching down to scratch his lower back. “What do you wanna do?”  
  
“I wanna suck you,” Sam answered quietly, blushing slightly. “I mean, can-- can I suck you?”  
  
Dean pushed himself up above Sam and swallowed hard, studying Sam carefully. “Sam, what-- why? Why do you wanna do that?”  
  
“Because you did it for me,” Sam said simply. “And I liked it.” He smiled shyly. “A _lot_. So can I?”  
  
Dean moved his hand up, cupping Sam’s cheek, dragging his thumb across Sam’s bottom lip, smiling. “No, Sammy, you can’t.”  
  
Sam frowned and he sat up quickly, hitting heads with Dean. “Ow,” he muttered, reaching up to rub his forehead.   
  
“Christ,” Dean muttered, sitting back on his heels.  
  
“Why not?” Sam asked, reaching out to rub the red spot on Dean’s forehead. “Why can’t I? I-- you did it to me.”  
  
“I’m older than you, Sam,” Dean said gently, reaching up to brush Sam’s fingers away. “I-- I wasn’t a virgin when I did it. I have more experience than you.”  
  
Sam’s mouth opened wide and he almost began to pout, but he didn’t really think that would help his argument. “But Dean, I want to. Really, I do. I want-- I don’t want to be a virgin anymore,” he finished softly, eyes dropping before he looked up at Dean, who was shaking his head slowly.  
  
“Sammy, no, I can’t make you do that,” Dean said. “I can’t let you do that. I can’t be the one to do that. You need-- you do realize this is illegal, right?”  
  
Sam nodded but rolled his eyes, before blowing his bangs out of his eyes. “Dean, we just stole a _car_! And you’re worried about breaking the law?”  
  
Dean groaned and rolled off the bed, standing up. “Sam, this is different, okay? This is like, a sex crime. It _is_ a sex crime. We get caught stealing a car, so what? We get caught having sex and we’re never allowed to see each other again.”  
  
Sam rolled his eyes again. “You just don’t want me to blow you ‘cause you think I won’t be good at it.”  
  
“Well, A: I know you’re not good at it,” Dean muttered, “and B: I just-- hand jobs, kissing, I can do that. That’s nothing. That blowjob, you got me drunk for that. But actually having sex? Sam, I’m not gay.”  
  
Sam’s jaw dropped and he jumped off the bed, trying his best to get in Dean’s face, but his brother still had a couple inches on him. “I-- I thought you’d want to do it. I thought you liked me.”  
  
Dean sighed and rubbed his face, tired and exasperated. “Okay, fine, Sam, you want to suck me? You want to have sex? Do you even know what it’s like, Sammy? Sex?”  
  
Sam shook his head.  
  
“No, you don’t,” Dean snapped. “I know what it’s like and I know you’re not ready. You’re sixteen, Sam!”  
  
“I caught you and that cheerleader when you were sixteen!” Sam protested.   
  
“And I wasn’t ready!” Dean exclaimed. “Sam, you’re sixteen and you’re my little brother and I don’t want you to rush into something because you think you’re in love with me, or something.”  
  
Sam swallowed hard and looked away from Dean, blinking wildly. When he turned back, his eyes were shining bright with tears. “I _do_ love you. I thought-- you said it.”  
  
Dean sighed. “I do love you, Sam, but I can’t have sex with you. Okay? I just-- it’s too much. I’m sorry, it’s too much for me. Do-- I’ve never done it that way before Sam, but I bet it hurts. It hurts for a girl the first time. I don’t want to hurt you.”  
  
“Maybe I don’t need you to protect me!” Sam yelled, reaching out to shove Dean, but Dean just grabbed onto his wrist. “Did you think about that? Maybe I want you to be my first. Maybe I’d rather have it hurt with you than with someone else.” He opened his mouth to continue on, but he just closed it again. He cried out in frustration and yanked his hand out of Dean’s grip, pushing by him.  
  
“Sam, don’t,” Dean said, quickly stepping back to block the door. “Come on, don’t. I’m sorry, okay? I’m just not ready. Okay? Now come on, go back to bed, it’s late.” He smiled and batted his eyelashes, before his smile turned into a grin. “Let’s go to bed.”  
  
Sam sighed and turned around, walking slowly back over to the bed, dropping down on the bed, peeling off his socks. He scrunched up his nose, sniffing the socks, before standing up, undoing his jeans before pushing them down.  
  
Dean sat still on the edge of the bed, watching Sam, before dropping his eyes to the floor. He quickly got undressed, pulling back the corner on the sheets, crawling under the cool sheets. “Night, Sam.”  
  
Sam glanced over at Dean, nodding. “Yeah, night.” He climbed under the sheets and laid stiffly on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He took a deep breath and listened to Dean breathing, listened to him shifting under the sheets, grunting as he tried to get comfortable. Sam swallowed before turning his head, pressing his lips to whatever part of Dean he had happened to hit. “Night.”  
  
Dean smiled and rolled over, curling up alongside Sam. “It’s not that I don’t like you.”  
  
Sam shook his head. “I know. I get it. I think. I-- I’m probably not ready anyway. I just-- you weren’t a virgin at my age and Dad told me once that neither was he. I guess I just wanted to be like you guys.”  
  
Dean smiled again and pressed his lips to Sam’s cheek, before reaching up to rub his chest comfortingly. “You’re not me and Dad. Now get to sleep; tomorrow, Graceland  
  
 

*** * * * ***

  
  
Sam shot up in the bed when he heard a loud bang beside him. “What happened? What’s going on?”  
  
Dean smiled apologetically while he hopped around, gripping onto his toes. “Okay, I didn’t just run into the nightstand.”  
  
Sam grinned and rubbed at his eyes, yawning loudly. “It’s not like I have anyone to make fun of you with anyway.” He swung his legs off the bed and rubbed at his eyes, shaking his hair out of his eyes. “How’d you sleep?”  
  
“Fine,” Dean shrugged, finally letting go of his foot. He limped over to his jeans, grabbing a stick of gum out of the pocket. He shoved it into his mouth, chewing it loudly before smiling over at Sam. “No toothpaste and I hate morning breath.”  
  
Sam nodded, standing up. He stretched his arms above his head, cracking his shoulders and spine. He walked over to Dean, slinging an arm around his neck, ducking his head to kiss Dean’s chest, nuzzling the tanned skin, looking up at Dean before moving his mouth down a bit more, pressing his wet lips to Dean’s nipple, opening his mouth. He moaned softly when he felt the bud tighten and spring up in his mouth, looking back up at Dean.  
  
Dean groaned and his eyes fluttered, before he reached down and pushed Sam away from him, clucking his tongue, shaking his head. “You trying to seduce me or something?”  
  
Sam nodded eagerly, smiling up at his brother, his bottom lip between with his teeth. “Is that okay?”  
  
“You don’t give up, do you?” Dean asked, amused.  
  
Sam shook his head. “I thought, maybe after Graceland, we could…I don’t know, just play around. Or something.”  
  
“You mean experiment?” Dean asked. “You can say it, you know.”  
  
“I wanna experiment,” Sam said finally, pulling back enough to stare Dean in the eyes. “Please?”  
  
Dean studied Sam carefully, before leaning down, kissing him. “Sam, I told you last night--”  
  
Sam cut him off with a shake of his head. “We don’t have to do that. I just, I wanna get used to what we’re doing now. Get better at it. ‘Kay?”  
  
Dean nodded. “‘Kay,” he agreed. “Now come on, get dressed, we’re going out for breakfast.”  
  
Sam grinned and practically stumbled past Dean to grab at his clothes, quickly pulling them on, even though Dean was pretty sure his t-shirt was on inside out, which made him just look all the cuter.  
  
Dean pulled on his jeans and shoved his feet into his sneakers and finished pulling on his shirt, grabbing his jacket. He opened up the room door and glanced back. “Okay, Sammy, let’s--” he stopped talking when he heard the sirens right beside them and he looked back outside, swallowing hard when he saw the cops, one of them by the car, one of them right outside the door. “Uh, hello officer,” he smiled, looking up at him. “What can I do you for?”  
  
Sam stepped out of the room to stand beside Dean, watching the police officers nervously. “Uh, Dean, what’s going on?”  
  
Dean shook his head and shrugged. “I’m not sure, Sam.”  
  
“You boys the Winchesters?” the police officer asked, looking at his notebook.  
  
Sam and Dean looked at each other, Sam not saying anything, but finally Dean nodded.  
  
“Your father was wondering where you two went,” the police officer told them.  
  
“You said Dad wasn’t going to be home,” Sam whispered, shoving Dean lightly.  
  
“Sorry,” Dean muttered. “We should’ve told him sir, you’re right.”  
  
One of the other police officers walked over to them, standing beside the first officer. “It’s the car.”  
  
“You boys know anything about this car?” the first officer asked, pointing his pen at the black car they had driven there. He smiled slightly, amused when Dean and Sam shook their heads simultaneously. “The clerk said it was the car you drove here. This car was reported stolen last night, from the Panther Burn Mall.”  
  
Sam swallowed hard and he glanced back at Dean hopelessly, not sure what to say. “Dean,” he finally said, voice breaking. “Dean.”  
  
Dean shook his head, reaching out to grasp onto Sam’s arm, pulling him closer. “Well, officer?” Dean asked, moving in front of his brother.  
  
“You’re both under arrest for grand theft auto,” the police officer told them, pulling out two pairs of handcuffs.   
  
“Dean,” Sam whimpered as the cuffs were locked around his wrists. “Dean, make them stop.”  
  
Dean shook his head sadly and offered his wrists to the officer. “It’ll be okay, Sammy, we just gotta get home and it’ll be okay, okay?”  
  
Sam nodded and cried out when the police officer grabbed onto his arm, walking him over to the police car. “Dean, I don’t wanna be arrested.”  
  
“It’s okay, Sam,” Dean said again, trying to calm Sam down. “It’s going to be okay. You won’t go to prison, I promise. Okay? I promise.”  
  
Sam nodded and looked up at the police officer. “I’m sorry, sir.”  
  
“I’m not the one you have to apologize to,” the officer said, opening the car door. “Watch your head.”  
  
Sam climbed into the car and watched Dean walk around to the other side, sighing in relief when the officer put Dean in beside him. “I don’t wanna go to jail, Dean,” he said softly, watching the police officers climb into the car.  
  
“You won’t, you’re only sixteen,” Dean pointed out. “You’ll-- you’ll go to juvie or something.”  
  
“What about you?” Sam asked. “Will you go to jail?”  
  
“I might,” Dean admitted. “I don’t know, probably. I’m twenty years old, Sam. I think juvie is only for people like, eighteen and younger.”  
  
Sam leaned back into his seat, leaning his head against the window. “I don’t want you to go to jail.”  
  
Dean sighed. “I know. And trust me, I’m not really keen on going to prison, either.”  
  
 

*** * * * ***

  
  
Dean swallowed hard and shifted uncomfortably under the stare of his father. “Listen, Dad, I told you, I’m sorry.”  
  
“You stole a car, Dean,” John snapped.  
  
“I know,” Dean muttered. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“You stole a car with your brother!” John exclaimed. “Sam is fifteen--”  
  
“Sixteen,” Sam interrupted.  
  
“Sixteen,” John corrected quickly, “and you’ve got him charged with stealing a car.”  
  
“Dad, I tried to take the heat for that,” Dean reminded him.   
  
Sam nodded. “He did, Dad. He told them it was his idea and he just dragged me along with him.”  
  
John sighed and shook his head. “I can’t believe you two. You stole a car. You’re going to jail.”  
  
“Maybe not,” Sam said hopefully. “Mr Hebb is trying to get me juvie, remember? Maybe Dean too.”  
  
Dean snorted and rolled his eyes. “Sam, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m twenty. They don’t put twenty year olds in juvie. I’m not a kid anymore. And oh yeah, auto theft is a felony! They’re not putting me in juvie.”  
  
Sam sighed and looked away from Dean. “Dad, you’ll come visit us sometimes, right? Please? What if they split me and Dean up? I can’t go to prison, I’m not big or strong or anything, what if somebody tries to hurt me?”  
  
“That’s why I got you two together,” Mr Hebb said, smiling as he walked into the room.  
  
“Mister Hebb,” Dean said, smiling back. “So, what’s it going to be? Five years? Ten?”  
  
“Two, actually,” Mr Hebb replied. “Both of you, in a medium security prison.”  
  
John shook his head in disbelief and Sam could feel his eyes start to well up with tears, before he squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t go to prison,” Sam muttered, looking at Dean.  
  
“What about parole?” John asked. “Did they get anything like that?”  
  
“Possibility of parole in six months,” Mr Hebb replied. “So best case scenario, you’re in medium security for six months with the likes of Martha Stewart.”  
  
“Wasn’t she in minimum security?” Sam asked softly.  
  
Mr Hebb just continued on, ignoring Sam’s comment. “Shouldn’t be all that bad. But you’re going today, so I’d suggest you three say your goodbyes now.” He smiled and turned around, walking out of the room.  
  
“I have to go to jail,” Dean muttered, shaking his head. “God. People get like, raped in jail, Dad. I’m pretty!”  
  
“Dean, it’s medium security,” John reminded him. “I don’t think there are any rapists in medium security.”  
  
Dean groaned and dropped his head onto the table. “I get to stay with Sammy though.” He lifted his head and smiled at Sam, who was trying to smile back.  
  
“You look out for him,” John said.  
  
Dean nodded. “Yes, sir. Of course.”  
  
“Good. Good boy.”  
  
 

*** * * * ***

  
  
Sam swallowed hard and sat down, taking a bite of his sandwich. He looked around the small room, studying the few other people eating around him. He looked down at the table, squeezing his eyes shut.   
  
“Sam-may,” Dean said, sitting down beside him, dropping his tray on the table. “Lighten up, it’s okay. It’s not that bad in here.”  
  
“We’re in prison,” Sam reminded him. “In an actual prison. We’ve only been in here a week and we still have--” he thought for a moment, “one hundred and three weeks to go. People don’t like me in here.”  
  
“I like ya, don’t worry about it,” Dean said, grinning as he put his arm around Sam’s shoulders.  
  
“Don’t,” Sam snapped, moving away from Dean. “Dean, this is prison, not Club Med. We-- we’re felons. I’m a sixteen-year-old felon, don’t you see the problem there?”  
  
“Sammy, we _tried_ to get you put in juvie,” Dean pointed out, “but they wouldn’t have it. We crossed state lines.”  
  
“Which, as I recall, I said was a bad idea,” Sam muttered. “We shouldn’t’ve taken that car. We shouldn’t’ve taken anything. We should’ve just stayed home and watched that stupid Nicole Kidman movie. We didn’t need those--”  
  
“Sam, calm down,” Dean said quietly, looking around as other people began to look at them. “Now come on, tell me about your cellmate.”  
  
Sam could feel his eyes start to feel with tears again, shaking his head. “I don’t like him. He’s like, six foot five.”  
  
Dean sighed. “He doesn’t seem that bad. Maybe he can help protect you when I’m not around.”  
  
Sam shook his head. “He doesn’t like me. Calls me names.”  
  
Dean sighed again and began looking around the cafeteria for Sam’s cellmate. “He hasn’t-- he hasn’t tried to hurt you, has he? Like, ra--”  
  
Sam shook his head furiously. “No, no. He’s not like that. Just calls me names.”  
  
“Want me to take him down for you?” Dean asked.  
  
Sam shook his head. “No, that’s okay. I don’t want him to get mad at me.” He took a small bite of his sandwich before he felt his stomach cramp up and he tried to make himself smaller. “I don’t feel well.”  
  
“Sam, we’ve been here a week and you’ve barely eaten anything,” Dean said softly, rubbing Sam’s back comfortingly. “You’re losing a lot of weight. A lot of weight you don’t exactly have to lose. You’re in a growth spurt, you’re supposed to eat more, not less.”  
  
“It all makes me sick,” Sam explained. “My stomach always hurts.”  
  
“It’s nerves,” Dean said quietly, moving closer to Sam. “You’re homesick. This isn’t exactly Panther Run.”  
  
Sam’s tears spilled over and he shook his head, picking at his sandwich. “No, it isn’t,” he said quietly, trying not to draw attention to the fact that he was crying. “I miss Dad.”  
  
“Yeah, me too,” Dean agreed, reaching over to pick up Sam’s sandwich. “Now come, finish it.”  
  
“I’m just going to throw it up,” Sam protested.  
  
“I don’t care,” Dean said, thrusting the sandwich in Sam’s face. “Eat it, now. At least half of it, for me.”  
  
Sam groaned but took the sandwich from Dean anyway. “Fine,” he muttered, taking a bite. He gagged slightly but forced himself to swallow it, knowing Dean would be upset if he didn’t. He opened his mouth and showed it to Dean. “Happy?”  
  
Dean nodded. “Yup. Now keeping going.”  
  
Sam gagged again, just at the thought but took another bite, chewing it slowly. “Yum,” he said sarcastically, glaring at Dean.  
  
Dean smiled sympathetically and kept on rubbing circles on the small of Sam’s back, humming to him softly.  
  
“I wanna go home,” Sam said softly, more tears filling his eyes. “I just wanna go home. I don’t wanna be here anymore, Dean.”  
  
“I know,” Dean said, moving his arm up to Sam’s shoulders. “I know. It’s okay though, it’s going to be okay, you’ve got me. I mean, this is what we wanted: you and me out of Panther Run. Just think of it like we ran away and this is where we ended up.”  
  
Sam took another bite of his sandwich, smiling sadly up at Dean. “Do you think, once we get out of here,” he swallowed his dry sandwich, “can we-- are they going to let us see each other?”  
  
Dean pulled his arm back and reached out, grabbing his juice container. “What do you mean? Just like, hang out?”  
  
Sam nodded. “Yeah, like that. Will we be allowed to be together?”  
  
Dean shrugged. “Yeah, probably.”  
  
Sam looked around the cafeteria and slid just a couple inches closer to Dean, dropping his hand down from the table. He gripped onto Dean’s thigh before sliding his hand up his leg.  
  
Dean froze and looked around, before looking down at his lap. “Sam, what are you doing?”  
  
Sam shook his head and kept his eyes up, still eating his sandwich with his other hand. “Just-- just let me.”  
  
“Sam, no,” Dean whispered harshly, reaching down to grab at Sam’s hand. “Hey, Winnie,” a voice said suddenly and Dean jumped, swallowing hard.  
  
Sam let go of Dean’s thigh and brought it back up to the table, dropping his eyes. “Hi Ryland.”  
  
“Who’s this?” Dean asked, nudging Sam.  
  
“Ryland,” Ryland grinned, reaching his hand over the table to Dean. “Winnie’s roommate.”  
  
Dean shook Ryland’s hand slowly, uncertain of something. “Who the hell is Winnie?”  
  
“Me,” Sam muttered, picking at his sandwich.   
  
Ryland grinned again. “That’s right, little Winnie. He’s like a little girl, aren’t ya Winnie? Cryin’ at night, _whimpering_.”  
  
Sam slouched down and looked over at Dean quickly, who was watching him.   
  
“He’s your brother, right?” Ryland asked, looking at Dean.  
  
Dean nodded slowly, still watching Sam. “Yeah, he is.”  
  
“See, Winnie, you _are_ going to grow up big and strong!” Ryland laughed. “How tall are you now, Winnie?”  
  
“Shut up,” Sam muttered. “I’m not that short.”  
  
“Ryland, is it?” Dean asked, straightening up.  
  
Ryland stopped laughing for long enough to nod. “Yeah.”  
  
“Shut the fuck up, Ryland,” Dean snapped. “Leave my brother alone.”  
  
Sam groaned. “Dean, don’t,” he whined, picking up his sandwich. “Leave it alone.”  
  
“Sam, this ass can’t just pick on you like that,” Dean said, turning slightly in his seat. “Now, he’s going to say he’s sorry, isn’t he?” he said, turning back to Ryland.  
  
Ryland snorted and stood up. “Fuck no. But get it through to your brother that he’d better shut the fuck up at night or I’ll give him something to _really_ cry about.” He turned and began to walk away.  
  
Dean stood up quickly but Sam just grabbed onto his arm, pulling him back down.   
  
“Dean, don’t,” Sam said again, looking up at his brother. “ _Please_. Don’t do anything, I don’t want to piss him off even more.”  
  
Dean huffed and sat back down, watching Ryland walk out of the cafeteria. “Next time he does something, I’ll fucking kill him.”  
  
Sam sighed and reached out, grabbing his juice. “Dean, I don’t want you to. I really don’t want you to do anything. Okay? I have to sleep in the Same room as him and I’d like to be able to sleep with both eyes _closed_ , please.”  
  
Dean sighed. “Sam, why are you crying at night? What’s going on? Do your legs still hurt?”  
  
Sam shook his head. “No, it’s not that. I don’t like it here, I just want to go home. I miss my friends at school, I miss Dad, I miss not being able to spend time with you. I wanna go home.”  
  
“Me too,” Dean breathed, propping his elbows up on the table. “I know, Sammy, me too.”  
  
 

*** * * * ***

  
  
“Look, they’re like the next youngest guys in here, Sammy,” Dean said, pointing at a group of guys talking over by a bench. “Why don’t you try and be nice to them?”  
  
Sam shook his head and stayed as close to Dean as he could, swallowing hard when a couple of men glanced over at them, one of them grinning. “I-- I’m okay with you, Dean. I’d rather be with you.”  
  
Dean sighed and looked around, leading Sam over to a set of bleachers, sitting down. “Sam, I’m not sure if you realize this or not, but we’re going to be in here for, at the least, almost another six months. You’ve gotta get used to hanging out with people other than me. What if I get parole and you don’t?”  
  
Sam shook his head and sat down beside Dean. “You’d never get parole before me. You were the one driving.”  
  
“Okay, fine,” Dean muttered. “You’re probably right. But it’d be nice if you could hang out with somebody other than me.”  
  
Sam looked away from Dean, staring out at the grounds past the fences, sighing as somebody drove by. “Well I’m sorry I’d rather spend time with you, Dean. You don’t have to be mean about it.”  
  
Dean shook his head, looking around. “I wasn’t being mean. I was just being honest, Sam. You’re getting a little clingy.”  
  
“Fine,” Sam snapped, shoving his hands in his pockets before he stood up, walking away from Dean.  
  
Dean watched Sam walk away and shoved his own hands in his pockets, taking a deep breath.  
  
Ryland nudged one of his friends against the fence, grinning. “Hey, Winnie!” he called out, pushing himself off the fence.  
  
Dean straightened up and watched Ryland closely, but he decided not to make a move yet.  
  
Sam sighed and turned around, looking up Ryland. “H-- Hi Ryland. What’s going on?”  
  
Ryland sighed and slung his arm around Sam’s shoulder, pulling him in. “I thought I told you last week to shut the fuck up at night. Didn’t I have that conversation with you?”  
  
Sam nodded. “Yeah, you did. I’m sorry, Ryland, but I got sick yesterday and--”  
  
“Didn’t ask for excuses, Winnie,” Ryland interrupted. “Did I?”  
  
Sam shook his head. “No.”  
  
“Okay, so here’s what we’re going to do,” Ryland began, pulling Sam in closer. “You’re going to blow me.”  
  
Sam’s eyes widened and he pulled back from Ryland. “Wh-- why? Ryland, I promise, I won’t cry anymore, I promise, I’m feeling a lot better.”  
  
“Yeah, but I sleep a lot better after I get a blow job,” Ryland grinned. “I’m practically dead. So you blow me and you can cry all you want.”  
  
Sam swallowed hard and glanced over at Dean, pleading at him with eyes.   
  
Dean frowned and finally stood up, walking slowly over to Sam and Ryland.  
  
“Ryland, I don’t think I can do that,” Sam said.   
  
Ryland pouted. “Why not? It’s not that hard, Winnie, I’ll guide you through it.”  
  
Sam shook his head. “I-- I can’t do that, Ryland. I won’t. I won’t do that.” He looked over in relief when Dean finally made his way over, sighing.  
  
“What’s going on here, fellas?” Dean asked, grasping onto Ryland’s jacket, lifting his arm off of Sam’s shoulders. “You okay, Sam?”  
  
Sam nodded and looked away, biting his bottom lip. “Fine.”  
  
“Ryland?” Dean asked, turning to Ryland.  
  
Ryland grinned. “Oh yeah, we’re fine. Just having a little chat, aren’t we, Sam?”  
  
“Yeah,” Sam agreed, looking back at Dean and Ryland. “Just a little chat, Dean.”  
  
“Okay,” Dean said, wrapping his arm around Sam’s shoulder. “Come back over here with me then, please.” He began leading Sam way, looking back at Ryland. “Sam, are you okay?”  
  
“Yeah,” Sam said again. “He uh, he just-- it’s fine, Dean, I don’t want you to do anything.”  
  
“What did he say to you, Sam?” Dean asked, sitting Sam back down on the bleachers. “Tell me the truth.”  
  
Sam looked up at Dean, eyes shining bright. “Nothing. He just-- he just wants me to help him fall asleep.”  
  
“Yeah, my roommate tried that on me too,” Dean said quietly. “Of course, I threatened to break his kidney or something.”  
  
Sam smiled, for almost the first time since they’d been in there. “Dean, what if-- what if he makes me? What do I do?”  
  
“Bite it off,” Dean said simply. “Easy as pie.”  
  
Sam scrunched up his face in a look of disgust. “What do I do with it then?” he asked, looking at Dean, eyes squinting in the sunlight. “Like, give it back?”  
  
Dean laughed softly, shaking his head. “Hell, I don’t know, Sam, do whatever you want with it. Keep it, definitely keep it. Show the warden or whatever. He’s probably got a collection of ‘em somewhere.”  
  
Sam laughed softly. “I could get it bronzed. Give it to Dad when he asks what we’ve been doing in here.”  
  
Dean cracked up, laughing loudly, squeezing Sam’s shoulder. “See, that’s the little brother I know and love. It’s not all that bad in here.”  
  
Sam shook his head. “It’s kind of like private school. If I close my eyes, I can pretend that we’re rich, and Dad had to send us away so he could go the Alps with his third wife or something.”  
  
Dean laughed again. “Dad can’t ski. Dad can barely walk out the door without tripping on his big ass feet.”  
  
Sam stuck the tip of his tongue out, grinning as he shook his head to get his hair out of his eyes. “He’s so awkward.” He smiled up at Dean, eyes wide. “Maybe I’ll be that tall?”  
  
Dean nodded. “Yeah, maybe. Probably. Yes. Yes, Sammy, you will be that tall.” Dean didn’t think it was possible for Sam’s grin to get even bigger, but as it turned out, Dean was wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Lawyers, Guns and Money; Part Two  
**Pairing:** Sam/Dean  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Summary:** After an incident with the law, Sam and Dean end up in a medium security prison, with prison problems.  
**Disclaimer:** Nothing here is mine; not Sam and Dean, not even the idea.  
**Word Count:** 11, 988 [broken into two parts for the length]  
**Author's Note:** I adopted [ this bunny](http://community.livejournal.com/spn_bunnies/38771.html) from [ ](http://toxxxicgurl.livejournal.com/profile)[**toxxxicgurl**](http://toxxxicgurl.livejournal.com/); it’s definitely AU, as they’re not hunters, and even though Sam and Dean are seven years younger than they are on the show, it takes place in the present. So, [ ](http://toxxxicgurl.livejournal.com/profile)[**toxxxicgurl**](http://toxxxicgurl.livejournal.com/), I hope you like it!  
it should also be said that the only knowledge I have of like, prison and the justice system are from Law  & Order, Prison Break and Oz  
  
  
  
Dean nodded Sam over to the showerhead beside him, giving him a slight smile. “Hey, Sammy,” he said softly, ducking his head back under the warm spray.  
  
Sam smiled shyly and ducked his head under the water, soaking his hair, shaking his head right afterwards.  
  
Dean laughed, giving Sam a slight shove. “You’re look like a wet dog.”  
  
Sam grinned and shoved Dean back. “I’d rather look like one than smell one.”  
  
Dean rolled his eyes. “God, Sammy, what are you, twelve?”  
  
Sam shrugged, just standing under the water, letting it beat down on him. He let his eyes drift closed, not paying any attention to anyone around him, just letting the stress of the past few days wash out of him. He sighed dreamily, shaking his head again, water going everywhere. He took a deep breath and shrieked as someone’s arm wrapped around his waist, grabbing onto his dick.   
  
“Hey!” Dean yelled, shoving whoever it was off of him.  
  
Sam cringed when he heard Ryland’s laughter in his ears and he moved out of the way going up against the wall, squeezing his eyes shut.  
  
“Don’t you _ever_ fucking touch my brother again!” Dean yelled, shoving Ryland again, while trying to stay standing on the slick floor.  
  
Ryland grinned and shoved Dean back, laughing. It was obviously all a game to him. “Aw, is little Winnie gonna cry?”   
  
Sam squeezed his eyes shut until he saw spots and wrapped his arms around himself, sliding down the wall.   
  
Dean glanced over at Sam and moved to go to him, but Ryland grabbed onto his arm, yanking him towards him. “Ryland, don’t you fuckin’ touch me either.” He shoved Ryland off of him and walked over to Sam, crouching in front of him. “Sammy, are you okay?”  
  
Sam nodded furiously and Dean wasn’t sure if Sam was crying, or if it was just water from the shower running down his cheeks.   
  
Dean nodded and pushed himself back up, turning to Ryland. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”  
  
Ryland shrugged. “I’m the guy that’s gonna touch your little brother the second you’re out of sight.”  
  
Dean didn’t hesitate even a second before he swung his fist, hitting Ryland in the jaw.  
  
Ryland cried out and stumbled back on wet floor, his feet slipping out from under him and he fell. “Oh, you fucker,” Ryland gritted, trying to push himself back up.  
  
“What?” Dean yelled. “What are you going to do?”  
  
“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you!” Ryland yelled, managing to push himself up. “You asshole!”  
  
“Stop it, Dean, please,” Sam pleaded, lifting his head up off his knees. “Don’t.”  
  
Dean swung his fist again and this time, hit Ryland in the nose, feeling it crack beneath his knuckles. It was Dean’s turn to grin and he dropped to the floor, punching him again. “Don’t you ever, _ever_ touch Sam again.” He kept punching Ryland until he felt somebody’s hands on him, pulling him off. Dean looked up, breathing heavily, coming face to face with one of the guards.   
  
“Get your clothes,” the guard snapped, yanking on Dean’s arm. “You’re coming with me.”  
  
Sam looked up at Dean helplessly until someone else was at his side, helping him up. He looked at the person beside him, recognizing the man as one of the younger inmates, on of the ones Dean had wanted him to be friends with.  
  
“It’s okay,” he said softly, turning Sam and Dean’s showers off, leading Sam over to his clothes. “Get dressed, they’re probably going to close down the showers for the rest of his day.”  
  
“What’s going to happen to Dean?” Sam asked, pulling on his boxers, not bothering to dry off. “Are they going to send him to a real prison?”  
  
The inmate shook his head. “No, they’ll-- have you ever seen the show Oz?”  
  
Sam shook his head, standing up. “I heard a lot of people die on that show.”  
  
“They’re going to put him in isolation,” the inmate explained. “Until they think he’s calmed down and the situation’s passed.”  
  
“Oh,” Sam nodded. “Wha-- can I visit him, when he’s isolation?”  
  
The inmate shook his head again, smiling weakly. “No, that’s the point of isolation. Now come on, I’ll walk you back to your cell.”  
  
Sam nodded and began following him out of the shower. “Oh, I’m-- I’m Sam, by the way,” he said, offering out his hand.  
  
The inmate nodded, shaking his hand. “Aaron.”  
  
Sam half-smiled. “Thank you. For-- for helping me up.”  
  
Aaron shrugged. “It’s not a problem. You’re young, aren’t you?”  
  
Sam nodded. “Sixteen.”  
  
Aaron nodded slowly. “What are you doing in prison then?”  
  
“We stole a car,” Sam answered. “It’s kind of like, a felony. Then we crossed state lines. They didn’t think juvie was enough, apparently. Why are you in here?”  
  
“I uh, I assaulted a guy,” Aaron replied. “Not-- not sexually or anything, don’t worry. I beat him up.”  
  
“Oh,” Sam said. “How long are you in here for?”  
  
“Six months to a year,” Aaron answered. “I’ve only got a couple months left.”  
  
“Lucky,” Sam muttered. They walked silently back to Sam’s room, stopping in front of the door. “What’s going to happen to Ryland? He-- he grabbed me. He’s going to be mad, about Dean.”  
  
“They’ll probably give you a new roommate,” Aaron answered. “So, are you okay? I better be getting back to my own bed.”  
  
Sam nodded. “Yeah. Thank you.” Sam sighed and leaned against the wall beside his cell, looking around. “Fuck,” he muttered, pushing himself off the wall. At least, if Aaron was right, Sam wouldn’t have to put up with Ryland anymore.  
  
 

*** * * * ***

  
  
Sam wrapped his jacket around him further, the air cool in the early morning. Sam nibbled at his lips, they were getting more chapped the longer he stayed in the prison, for some reason. He looked around, wishing that Dean would just come trolling outside, that stupid toque on, making some joke about Sam’s hair. He sighed and sat down on the bench, looking around at the other men. Dean had been in isolation for almost a week and nobody would tell Sam when they were going to let him out. One good thing did happen though, from the shower incident: Ryland wasn’t Sam’s cellmate anymore. But unfortunately, Ryland had taken to shoving Sam in the halls and calling him names at lunch.  
  
Somebody whistled loudly and Sam looked up, seeing Ryland grinning at him from by the fence. Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head, standing up. He gave Ryland the finger and began walking away, before somebody grabbed onto his arm and pulled him into the corner by the bleachers.  
  
“Ryland doesn’t like you, Winnie,” one of the men smiled, gesturing Ryland over.  
  
“I know,” Sam muttered. “Now let me go. Please.”  
  
The other man shook his head and gripped even harder, smiling as Ryland walked up behind Sam.   
  
“Hey, Winnie,” Ryland said softly, leaning against the bleachers. “How’s your brother?”  
  
“How’s your nose?” Sam snapped, turning to glare at Ryland. “Ryland, I don’t know why you don’t like me, but I never did anything to you. Stop bothering me.”  
  
Ryland laughed and snorted, shaking his head. “I don’t think so, Winnie. Now, me and you were gonna have some fun, before your brother got me kicked out of your cell.”  
  
Sam swallowed hard and tried to look past Ryland, trying to get the guard to notice him, but Ryland just stepped in front of him, shaking his head again.  
  
“Not this time, Winnie,” Ryland said quietly, reaching out to run his fingers up Sam’s side. “I told you, I wanted you to blow me, help me sleep better.”  
  
Sam looked up at Ryland, shaking his head. “I-- just leave me alone, Ryland, please. I don’t want to.”  
  
“I don’t think it matters what you want anymore, Winnie,” Ryland said, moving his hand to the front of the waistband of Sam’s pants. “It matters what I want. And I wanna see if you’re as good of a fuck as you look.”  
  
“Don’t,” Sam pleaded, trying to back up, but Ryland’s friends grabbed onto his arms, holding him in place. “Please, Ryland, don’t do this. I’m sorry, I’m sorry for whatever I did, just don’t do this.”  
  
Ryland shoved his hand down the front of Sam’s pants, squeezing his dick, hard. Ryland grinned slyly and tugged once, laughing softly when Sam cried out in pain. “There’s obviously at least one part of you that’s big, now isn’t there?”  
  
Sam’s eyes filled his tears and he began to struggle. The second he opened his mouth to yell for help, Ryland dug his nails into Sam’s skin.  
  
“You scream, and I make sure Dean gets the exact same treatment as you do,” Ryland gritted. “Understand?”  
  
Sam nodded, eyes shining bright. “Yeah.”  
  
“Good,” Ryland said, smiling. He pulled his hand out of Sam’s pants and wrapped his arm around Sam’s waist, pulling him closer. “Now shh, this might hurt.”  
  
Sam began to whimper as Ryland’s hand slid down the back of Sam’s pants, fingers sliding down Sam’s crack, catching on the puckered skin. “Please, please, Ryland, _don’t_.”  
  
Ryland didn’t say anything, just moved his fingers again before quickly pushing in, causing Sam to cry out in pain, his knees buckling.  
  
“Hey, Ryland!” the guard yelled, finally noticing that something was going on. “What are you doing?”  
  
“Shit,” Ryland muttered. “This isn’t over, Winnie,” he whispered, pulling his hand out of Sam’s pants. He smiled over at the guard and raised both his hands. “Nothing, don’t worry about it.”  
  
Ryland’s friends finally let go of Sam’s arms, sending Sam down to the ground.  
  
The guard frowned and finally saw Sam, glancing around the yard before jogging over to him. “Winchester, you okay?” he asked, crouching in front of him. “Winchester, it’s time to go back in, okay?”  
  
Sam nodded and reached up, wiping his tears off his cheeks. “You-- you can’t-- he hurt me,” Sam finally managed to get out and he sniffled loudly, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand. “Can I see my brother? _Please_ can I see my brother? I need to see my brother.”  
  
The guard pulled back and studied Sam with his bloodshot eyes and his runny nose and chapped lips and the weight loss that everybody in the prison could see. Finally, he took a deep breath and nodded. “I might be able to get you an hour, maybe more. Since he’s your brother.”  
  
Sam finally cracked a smile, for the first time since Dean had been put in isolation and grabbed onto the guard’s jacket, helping himself up. “Thank you,” he said quietly and he sniffled again and looked over to Ryland.  
  
“Let’s go see the warden,” the guard said softly, checking Sam over quickly.  
  
 

*** * * * ***

  
  
Dean swung his legs off the bed and moved to push himself up when the door opened. He grinned and his eyes lit up, jumping off the bed. “Sammy, what are you doing here?”  
  
Sam glanced back at the guard, who was giving him a small smile. “I’m visiting. F-- for an hour.”  
  
The guard nodded once at Dean and closed the door behind Sam.  
  
Dean took a deep breath and stepped at Sam, pulling him in for a tight hug, pressing his lips to Sam’s temple, a completely chaste kiss. “How are you? What’s going on? Are you okay?”  
  
Sam slowly brought his arms up to wrap around Dean and shook his head, burying his face in Dean’s neck. “No, I’m not.”  
  
Dean kissed Sam’s head again and began rubbing his back, shushing him. “It’s okay, Sammy, tell me, what’s going on?”  
  
“I love you,” Sam cried before he began to sob into Dean’s neck, hugging him closely. “I love you, Dean.”  
  
Dean nodded. “I love you too, Sammy, but what’s going on? What happened? Why’d they let you see me?”  
  
Sam pulled back and looked up at Dean, eyes brimming with tears. “Ry-- Ryland, he--”  
  
“What’d that motherfucker do to you?” Dean demanded. “Did he hurt you? Did he--” Dean cut himself off as realization finally hit. “Did he rap--”  
  
Sam buried his face in Dean’s neck again, shaking his head. “He-- he tried, he was going to. In the yard.”  
  
Dean kept his arms around Sam and led him over to the bed, sitting him down. “It’s okay, Sammy, it’s okay, you can tell me.” He pulled back again. “What’d he do?”  
  
Sam hiccupped softly and stared down at the bed, picking at the fabric. Finally, he took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “He shoved his hand down my pants.”  
  
“Shit, Sammy,” Dean said softly, reaching up to fix Sam’s hair. “I’m sorry.”  
  
“He grabbed my dick,” Sam continued on, finally looking up at Dean. “And-- and then-- then he took his fingers and he--” he hiccupped again and shook his head, rubbing at his eyes. “Put ‘em in me.”  
  
“Fuck,” Dean breathed and pulled Sam back in, rubbing his back. “It’s okay, Sammy, he’s not going to hurt you. I’m gonna be out of here soon, I promise, and I’ll protect you.”  
  
Sam nodded and rested his head against Dean’s chest, feeling and hearing his heartbeat beneath him. “I love you, Dean,” he said quietly, voice sounding rough and broken. “It-- it’s not always like that, is it?”  
  
“What?” Dean asked, resting his chin on Sam’s head, rocking him back and forth slightly.  
  
“Sex,” Sam replied, looking up at Dean. “It hurt, when Ryland did it. Does it always?”  
  
“Probably not always,” Dean answered. “I don’t know. I mean, he probably didn’t use anything, I bet it hurts a lot less when you use something.”  
  
“Can we try it?” Sam asked, eyes wide and hopeful. “I want to try it. With you.”  
  
Dean sighed, studying Sam closely. “Sam, you look like shit,” he told him.  
  
“Dean, I don’t sleep anymore,” Sam began, swallowing hard, Adam’s Apple bobbing. “I’m scared that-- that somebody won’t be watching and Ryland-- I don’t want Ryland to be my first. I don’t want him to ruin it for me. Please, can we try it?”  
  
“Sam, are you sure?” Dean asked, stroking Sam’s shoulder with his thumb. “You’d have to be sure.”  
  
Sam nodded. “I want you to be my first. And I can’t be out there anymore, without being with you like that.”  
  
Dean sighed again and leaned down, kissing Sam softly, their bottom lips sticking together when he pulled back. “Okay, Sammy.”  
  
Sam smiled and leaned up, bringing Dean in for another kiss as he shifted on the bed, getting up on his knees. “I love you,” he breathed once they pulled part again. “Do you love me?”  
  
Dean nodded, kissing Sam again. “Yeah, of course I do.”  
  
“Say it?” Sam asked hopefully.  
  
Dean smiled. “I love you, Samuel Winchester.”  
  
Sam’s nose crinkled up at the sound of his real name and kissed Dean, opening his mouth up to Dean’s tongue, shifting on the bed, laying down slowly, pulling Dean down on top of him. Sam pulled back and sighed dreamily, Dean’s weight on him like a security blanket.  
  
“You sure?” Dean asked again.  
  
Sam nodded and moved his hands from Dean to begin to unbutton his shirt slowly, fingers shaking. “I’m sure.”  
  
Dean pushed himself up sat back on his heels, watching Sam unbutton his shirt.  
  
Sam swallowed and sat up slightly, shrugging his shirt off, dropping it onto the floor and he laid back, shifting uncomfortably on the scratchy sheets. “N-- now what?” Sam asked.  
  
Dean began to unbutton his own shirt, getting it off, dropping it down by Sam’s. He reached awkwardly behind him and undid Sam’s shoes, pulling them off. He shifted again and undid his own shoes, toeing them off. “Sammy, you’ve gotta realize, I don’t have any condoms.”  
  
Sam nodded, looking up at Dean. “I get it. No lube either.”  
  
Dean shook his head, rubbing small circles on Sam’s stomach, feeling the quivering muscles beneath the skin. “You’re scared.”  
  
Sam shook his head. “Nervous. But you’re not Ryland and it won’t hurt as much.”  
  
“It might,” Dean pointed out quietly.  
  
Sam shrugged. “It’ll be an okay kind of hurt. Bearable. ‘Cause it’s you.”  
  
Dean leaned down and kissed Sam, moving his mouth against his slowly, sweetly, slipping his tongue into Sam’s mouth, before pulling back, pressing kisses along Sam’s jaw, moving down to his neck, licking at the sweat that had started on his collarbone. “You’re gonna be so pretty when you grow up,” Dean whispered and Sam wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t talking to himself. “Pretty now.”  
  
Sam smiled and reached between them, fumbling at the waistband of his jeans. “Now what?” Sam asked again, reaching out to move his hands up and down Dean’s thighs, looking up at him. “Do we-- should we get naked?”  
  
“If you want,” Dean said, pushing himself off Sam.   
  
“Go first,” Sam said quickly, pushing himself up onto his elbows, watching Dean.  
  
Dean smiled and reached down, pulling off his socks to go by his shoes. “Okay,” Dean said, pushing down his pants and underwear, stepping out of them. “Are you still okay?” Dean asked, shifting under the intense stare of Sam.  
  
Sam nodded eagerly and lifted his hips, pushing down his own pants and underwear, kicking them off. It took about two seconds before Sam started to blush and he reached down, trying to hide himself from Dean.  
  
“Don’t,” Dean commanded softly, climbing back onto the bed, curled up between Sam’s legs. He nuzzled Sam’s hip bone before kissing the pale skin, beneath his tan line and moved to press a soft kiss to the base of Sam’s dick. His tongue came out to wet his lips and he lifted his head, glancing up at Sam, who was watching him expectantly, before opening his mouth, taking the head of Sam’s cock in, lapping at the slit with his tongue.  
  
Sam gasped and his eyes flew shut. “Oh, god, Dean,” he cried out, reaching down to guide Dean’s head but he wasn’t sure if Dean would like it and he pulled his hand back, gripping it onto the sheets.  
  
“It’s okay, Sammy,” Dean said breathlessly, pulling off. “It’s okay, touch me.”  
  
Sam whimpered when Dean put his mouth back down and reached down again, digging his fingers into Dean’s head, hands shaking with the tension of trying not to just shove Dean’s head down. Instead, he thrust his hips up, moaning when his dick bounced off the back of Dean’s throat and Dean’s slight gag sent vibrations right up his spine. “Sorry,” he managed to get out, before he started panting heavily.  
  
Dean moved his mouth back up before smiling around Sam, reaching up to push down on Sam’s hips, keeping them on the bed. He bobbed his head up and down, swirling his tongue around. He pulled back, keeping just the head in his mouth, moving his hand from Sam’s hip to jerk Sam off.   
  
“Oh god,” Sam muttered, throwing one arm over his mouth, biting down, trying to keep his cries quiet. His eyes squeezed shut and he whimpered, thrusting his hips up again.   
  
Dean pulled off and kept working his hand as he moved up Sam’s body, nudging Sam’s arm away from his mouth.  
  
“I can’t stay quiet,” Sam explained, sounding scared as he glanced towards the door.   
  
“I can help with that,” Dean smiled, before ducking his head to pull Sam in for a kiss, thumbing the head of Sam’s cock.  
  
Sam brought a hand up, cupping Dean’s cheek as he began grinding on the bed, trying to get off quicker. He moved his other hand down Dean’s back, feeling the shifting muscles beneath the skin.  
  
Dean pulled off and breathed heavily in Sam’s ear, kissing his neck. “Come on, Sammy, s’okay.”  
  
Sam’s eyes squeezed shut and he grunted, digging his nails into Dean’s back as he came, spilling into Dean’s hand. He gasped softly and released his fingers from Dean’s back. He panted loudly in Dean’s ear, before he finally opened his eyes, trying to smile.  
  
“You okay?” Dean asked softly, pushing himself up on one elbow.  
  
Sam nodded and shifted on the bed, lifting his hips to scratch at his lower back. “Should I--” he sighed and reached up, dragging his thumb across Dean’s bottom lip.   
  
“Should you what?” Dean asked.  
  
“Roll over?” Sam asked, Adam’s Apple bobbing. “Onto my stomach, I mean.”  
  
“On your side,” Dean said, climbing off of Sam. He kept himself up until Sam finally got on his side then he laid down on his side behind him, pressing a kiss to the back of Sam’s neck. He ran his hand up Sam’s side, before dipping onto his stomach, collecting some of Sam’s come on his fingers, bringing his hand back. “Okay, Sam, you’re gonna need to just relax and just-- just keep breathing okay?”  
  
Sam nodded and shifted his arm to under his head and looked back at Dean, kissing him as best he could.  
  
Dean kissed Sam back and tried to distract Sam with his tongue as he slipped the tip of the first finger into Sam, hoping the come was slippery enough to help.   
  
Sam shifted on the finger, unsure of whether to push back or pull off, choosing just to stay still, letting Dean control how much and when.  
  
“Okay?” Dean asked.  
  
Sam nodded and shifted again, groaning softly as Dean began to work the finger in and out, stretching him. He could feel his eyes stinging with tears and closed his eyes, praying that Dean didn’t notice and stop.  
  
Dean slipped the first finger out and slipped the second along with it and he could feel Sam jerk and gasp against him. Dean pressed his lips to Sam’s sweat-slicked shoulder, rubbing his back with his other hand. “It’s okay, shh, it’s okay.”  
  
“Yeah,” Sam breathed, trying to stay relaxed, even as more tears began springing to his eyes. “S’okay.”  
  
“Three?” Dean asked, slipping the first two fingers out.  
  
“You think it’s okay,” Sam mumbled, pushing back against Dean.  
  
Dean swallowed hard and nodded dumbly against Sam’s back, hoping to hell he wasn’t hurting Sam too much, even though he could feel Sam trembling in his arms. “Sam, tell me if it hurts.”  
  
Sam’s eyes opened a couple tears dripped down onto his cheek. “Fuck,” he muttered before he sniffled loudly.  
  
Dean stilled his fingers and gulped, trying to push himself up to look at Sam. “Sam, I’m hurting you.”  
  
Sam shook his head. “It’s not so bad,” he muttered. “It-- Ryland-- he tried to do this to me.”  
  
“We can stop,” Dean offered, completely ready to slide his fingers out, but Sam just shook his head again. “Sammy, we can stop. I don’t want to force you.”  
  
Sam shook his head. “No, Dean, no. I don’t wanna stop. Don’t stop. Just do it.”  
  
Dean closed his eyes and leaned down, kissing Sam’s cheek, trying to get rid of all traces of his tears. “That bastard is never going to touch you again,” he gritted, spitting onto his hand, trying his best to ease the way as he positioned himself. “Sammy, tell me you’re sure, tell me.”  
  
“I’m sure,” Sam replied. “Make me-- I don’t wanna think about Ryland anymore.”  
  
Dean began pushing in, cringing when Sam cried out in pain and his shoulders began shaking again. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered, stilling his hips, Sam wrapped so tightly just around the head of his dick. He reached around Sam, dragging the pads of his fingers over Sam’s oversensitive skin, moving them up to rub at his nipples.  
  
Sam cried out and thrust back against Dean, taking more of him in. “Oh god,” he groaned, grabbing at the bed sheets. “Hurts.”  
  
“It’s okay, Sammy,” Dean said softly, wrapping an arm around Sam’s waist as he began rocking back and forth, gently sliding in a little at a time. “It’s okay. He’s not going to hurt you, ever; I promise. I promise. It’s okay, okay?”  
  
Sam opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a loud moan when Dean hit something inside of him. “God, do that again.”  
  
Dean pulled back and pushed back in, knowing he hit again when Sam whimpered. “God, Sammy, I love you.” He kissed Sam’s neck, moving his lips up to Sam’s jaw then to his cheeks. He shifted, kissing Sam’s temple, still rocking against him, before pressing a kiss to Sam’s eyelid, wrapping his arm around Sam tighter. “You’re mine, Sammy,” he whispered, “nobody’s going to touch you. Nobody but me.”  
  
Sam nodded, grabbing onto Dean’s arm, digging his nails into the skin. “G-- good. Good. I don’t want anybody to touch me but you. Okay?”  
  
“Nobody but me,” Dean breathed, nuzzling Sam’s head, before kissing him again. “I promise.”  
  
 

*** * * * ***

  
  
Sam sat down awkwardly, a dull ache still between his legs. He smiled to himself at the memory and reached out, grabbing onto his juice. He wrapped his lips around the top and took a long drink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.  
  
“Oh, Sam-may.”  
  
Sam looked up just as Dean sat down next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “So they let you out, huh?”  
  
Dean nodded, grinning. “Yeah. No man can keep Dean Winchester locked up.” He flexed his arms and kissed his biceps.  
  
Sam rolled his eyes and looked around the rest of the cafeteria, glad to see that Ryland was nowhere to be found. “You do realize that we’re still in prison, right?”  
  
Dean shrugged and reached out, sticking a couple of his fingers in Sam’s mashed potatoes, bringing them up to his mouth. “That’s a point,” he swallowed the potatoes down, “that I’m willing to overlook for the time being. Now come on, get ready.” He stood up, looking down at Sam expectantly.  
  
“For what?” Sam asked, but he stood up anyway.   
  
“Dad’s visiting today,” Dean answered, throwing his arm around Sam’s shoulder again. “He’s probably expecting both of us to be there.”  
  
Sam grinned and let Dean lead him out of the cafeteria. “Do you think he’ll be able to tell? That-- that-- well, you know.”  
  
Dean snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Sam, you’ve got ‘I just had sex’ stamped on your forehead.” He laughed to himself, glancing down at Sam. “Are you getting taller?”  
  
Sam shrugged. “Probably.”  
  
Dean rolled his eyes again and let go of Sam, stepping back to study him. “Wait. Oh my god Sammy, have you gotten _shorter_?”  
  
Sam glared at Dean and reached out to shove him. “Are you capable of not acting like an asshole? You’re such a huge dick.”  
  
Dean grinned and reached out to pat Sam’s shoulder. “That’s what she said.”  
 


End file.
